


The Defilement of Elim Garak

by epic_cephalopod



Series: Kinktobember 2018 [4]
Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Bondage, Come Shot, Dacryphilia, Ejaculate, Emotional Sadism, Established Relationship, Face Slapping, M/M, Masturbation, Men Crying, Messy, Money Shot, Sadism, Salirophilia, Tears, angry garak, dubcon, no sex really but the salirophilia is definitely not consensual, non-con, noncon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-25
Updated: 2018-10-25
Packaged: 2019-08-07 12:06:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16408181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/epic_cephalopod/pseuds/epic_cephalopod
Summary: Elim Garak is a vision of perfection and Julian can't take it.





	The Defilement of Elim Garak

Julian was in an oddly dark mood this evening, brooding and a little drunk. His partner had joined him for a nightcap, and Julian had tuned out whatever it was Garak was nattering on about and was taking in the handsome man sitting just on the other side of the couch. Garak was warmly dressed as always, several layers of fabric between him and the chill of the station. He wore a richly embroidered tunic, one he surely made himself. His scales were shined, his hair was combed, his nails were short and well groomed. Elim Garak was a vision of perfection, and it was driving the doctor mad with the need to ruin that perfect image.

He leaned forward, waving the tailor’s point away and interrupted “Always so impeccable, so well groomed, never a line out of place, my dear. Always so prim and proper. Don’t you ever get messy, Garak? Don’t you ever just let go?” and then Bashir did something he’d fantasized about doing for months - something that made the tailor drop his drink in shock - he reached over and stuck his hands in the Cardassians hair and ruffled it all up into a frizzy mess. He slid the thick strands through his fingers, scrunching and combing and making a horrible nest of it all.

Garak sputtered, utterly and truly offended at the invasion of his space and, but something in Julian had finally broke, and he was going to see this through to the end. Hands still in the tailor’s hair, Julian pulled him forward into a savage kiss. Garak tried to push him away, but the doctor’s augmented reflexes were far too fast, and Julian has caught his hands, pushing him backwards on his couch and pinning the older mans hands above his head with one of his own. His free hand pulled at Garak’s sleeve until it tore, and the tailor yelped and tried to bite his tongue.

“ _Doctor Bashir!_ How dare you! That is _Andorian Wool_!” Bashir ignored him, flipping the tailor over and using part of the sleeve to tie Garak’s wrists behind him. “Unhand me at once! This is most irregular. How dare you manhandle me and destroy my clothing, my work! How dare you!”

“Garak - do shut up, or I _will_ gag you.” Julian growled in the tailor’s ear, and the tailor hissed back, a dark reptilian sound the doctor had never heard come from a humanoid. Julian shoved a hand in his hair again, tugging Garak’s head back and Julian leaned down and licked him up the side of his face. Garak turned to snap at him again and Julian sighed, using the rest of the sleeve to gag the struggling tailor.

The other sleeve was torn off and Garak’s ankles bound, and Julian laid him longways on his couch and stopped to appreciate the sight - a tousled, furious Cardassian, muscular arms bare and straining. The doctor straddled Garak’s hips, and had found Garak’s knife - _his own bloody knife_ \- and started cutting the tailor’s clothing as he quivered under the blade. Bashir wasn’t simply cutting the Cardassian’s clothes off - no, he was destroying the garments, creating ragged tears and cuts in the ultra light wool, slicing embroidery which had taken hours to complete.

When Julian poured the better portion of the bottle of kanar they’d opened over him, staining the already damaged beyond repair tunic, Garak started furiously crying, his face splotching mottled grey. Julian plucked at the soaking fabric, covering his hands with the sticky drink and reaching up to run his purple stained fingers over the Cardassian’s ridges, leaving lines staining his face and streaking under the hot tears. He swirled his fingers through the thickening kanar and tattered fabric on Garak’s torso, creating sticky patterns.

Garak’s clothing was in tatters, and Julian saw his mouth working the gag, drool escaping the corner of his mouth. He could only imagine the insults the tailor was dying to hurl at him. The tailor may actually kill him for this. _‘In for a penny…’_ the doctor thought. He knew he may never get such an opportunity again.

Julian had never found himself more aroused than he was right now. The sight of the normally poised and perfect tailor brought low, undone, utterly debased was the most erotic thing he had ever seen. Knowing it was him that had brought the destruction on this beautiful creature, seeing how angry and humiliated he was - Garak clearly hated this - made him feel big, powerful.

The doctor pulled his own shirt off and cleaned his hands with it before tossing it aside. He ran his hands over his chest, pinching his nipples and staring down at the sight below him through heavily lidded eyes. Sliding his hands lower, he palmed his crotch through the fabric before unzipping and easing them down his hips, freeing himself and groaning as he stroked his thick cock furiously as Garak struggled beneath him. The tailor had no traction, arms and legs still bound.

Julian moved further up, now straddling his torso. He could reach Garak’s head, and the hand not on his cock was immediately buried in the thick black hair, tugging his head up to eye level with Julian’s cock as he furiously pumped away, moaning. Garak managed to gnaw through his gag, and hissed at the Doctor.

 _“Julian Subatoi Bashir, if you think you’re going to get away with this…”_ Julian grunted, releasing his hold on the tailor’s hair, and lightly slapped the tailor’s wet, sticky face, one side and then the other, until Garak’s cheeks stung and he was lightly weeping again in rage and humiliation. The fresh wave of tears silently burning down the tailors face were exactly what Julian needed, and he grunted again as he came in several great spurts, directing his ejaculate onto the disheveled tailor; a dollop in his hair, streaking his face - he aimed for the chufa on his forehead and was gratified to see his semen pooling in the spoon. The final spurt landed at the base of the tailor’s throat.

Julian looked down at his friend, and there was a wolfish grin on his boyish face. “Defilement suits you, my dear Garak.”.

Garak eyed him with naked rage and bared his teeth in a parody of a smile, but said nothing. Julian knew he would regret this, but right now, he really couldn’t manage to care.  
\---  
Fin

**Author's Note:**

> Apparently, I'm more of a dacryphiliac than I thought. I do love a poised, strong man brought to tears. 
> 
> This whole project is a combination writing challenge and personal exploration, and apparently I find salirophilia quite arousing. Something about the destruction of a beautiful thing/the humiliation of destroying such a person. There's a heavy non-con enjoyment of this here. I don't think Elim would ever agree to allow Julian to destroy his clothing. There's humiliation and then there's /humiliation/!
> 
> If anyone has requests (for kinks or pairings! I'd like to get a little femmeslash going here too), feel free to send them my way. Eventually I'm going to need a few more ideas and I do love writing folk's kinks.
> 
> Credit to Tinsnip's [Speculative Cardassian Reproductive Xenobiology](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1719479) for thoughts and inspiration on Cardassian anatomy and sex.


End file.
